


Trauma and Chairs

by ConnorProject2K17



Series: Scuncan Love [1]
Category: Total Drama (Cartoon)
Genre: Alberta is mentioned, M/M, as is the trauma chair, but duncan doesnt mind, duncan is sad and romantic, no one is shipping these two and im about to change that, scott is a Dirty Boy, scott is also sad and trying to be romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 23:31:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18108737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConnorProject2K17/pseuds/ConnorProject2K17
Summary: Duncan has a visitor in prison. He is also very bisexual and unknowingly a romantic. scott is also bisexual but really less of a romantic





	Trauma and Chairs

“You’ve got a visitor.”

Duncan looked up from counting the cracks on his cell wall. The hell?

“The hell?”

“Don’t swear at me, Smith,” his guard scowled and opened the door a little wider.

“Just follow me.”

Duncan stood up on numb legs and followed him out. It was like his body was on auto-pilot. Who the hell would be visiting him now?

His dad said Duncan had thrown away his last chance. And whatever he said, his mum usually agreed with. So his parents hadn’t come to see him.

Gwen had made it pretty clear that they were over, and had made no effort to get in contact with him. And he couldn’t really blame her. So she hadn’t come either.

Courtney? God, what a mess that had been. Even if she had come he wouldn’t had spoken to her. She was just toxic, plain and simple, and he wouldn’t be dragged back into that lifestyle.

Duncan was led through a series of hallways and doors so complicated he knew he wouldn’t be able to remember them, until he was finally pushed into the visiting centre. Pregnant women and children sat at every other table, chatting with hard-time criminals. Some Duncan recognized. Some he didn’t.

“This way, Smith.”

Duncan kept his head down and followed the guard. He knew it was pointless to tease the officers here: all that got him was time in ‘the bridge’. A torture-like chamber with no windows, tv or human communication. It was hell. And it wasn’t like the other inmates respected him anyway.

“Sit.” 

He sat at a small plastic table with surprisingly soft seats. The smell of junk food wafted over from the cafeteria in the corner, and he was surprised at how hungry he was. He hoped his visitor had money to buy him something.

So Duncan waited.

And then someone started walking over to him.

He looked up. They were the only person not sitting in the whole room, and they were making steady eye contact with him.

Duncan looked behind him and-nope, they were definitely looking at him.

They sat down opposite him.

Ginger, freckled and smelled of earth and shit. Duncan vaguely recognised him from the island, God what was his name? The hadn’t really had a chance to chat before Duncan was switched to the Heroes team. There was a foggy memory of him talking about his home, and Duncan remembered being concerned.

“Um, hey?”

Smooth.

“Hey.”

Ginger rubbed the back of his head, and looked down at the floor. Whatever the point of this meeting was, it wasn’t going well. Duncan picked at his shirt.

“Not that I don’t appreciate it… whoever you are. But why are you here?”

Ginger winced. He didn’t look up.

“I just-I was told by… the other contestants that no one was going to see you here.”

Ouch. Wasn’t that just a slap in the face?

“And I-I know what that feels like, so-”

“You’ve been in prison?”

Ginger finally looked up, eyes wide. He shook his hands, and nearly knocked off the weird… thing he’d placed on the table. Duncan narrowed his eyes at it; he hadn’t noticed that before. What the hell was it?

“No! No, i’ve never-done this. Before. I just… I know what it feels like to…”

Ginger inhaled sharply, and started scrunching up the denim on his jeans.

“To be in a bad place, and have no one care. I-I mean to have it  _ feel _ like no one cares. I’m not saying you don’t have-”

“What happened to you?”

Duncan got the impression that if he was going to keep interrupting, Ginger was going to get sick of him. But the kid seemed like he was spiralling.

Ginger-what was his  _ name _ -blinked a few times, and wilted in his seat. He seemed to have calmed down but also looked, depressed? Or scared? He didn’t face Duncan.

“Did you-err, watch Revenge of The Island?”

“No.”

“Ah.”

He wringed his hands together, and stared off into the distance. There was something in his eyes that was beginning to unsettle Duncan. It was like his body was here, but his mind had left. Like he was working on autopilot.

“When I was eliminated… I was mauled apart by a shark.”

“Oof.”

That was all Duncan could think to say? Oof? He’d been in some sticky jams, but even he knew being  _ mauled by a shark _ deserved more than an ‘oof’.

Surprisingly, Ginger laughed.

“Yeah. Um. I was paralyzed. All over. Couldn’t even move my face.”

Duncan didn’t say anything.

“They put me in something called a ‘trauma chair’. A tiny robot thing that crushed my body, and had, like, red and green beeps to show if I was happy or not.”

He leaned forward in his chair. Then back. Then forward again. Duncan realised he was rocking, slowly, and clutching his shirt. 

“I-I still remember Chris saying, like, ‘Who cares? It’s Scott’. And everyone laughing.”

Duncan made a mental note of his name. And that Chris, and everyone else on that season, was a fucking asshole.

Ging-Scott kept going.

“No one came to visit me. In the hospital. I got a phone call from my mama saying that she didn’t have the money to come down and see me. And my sister-Al-had to work on the farm. Papi didn’t know. She was crying though. At the end of the season I was sent home and my family had to take care of me. Meant I couldn’t work on the farm, so we lost a lot of money.”

It didn’t look like he had much money to begin with. Duncan felt he had to do something. Touch his arm? That was what Courtney told him to do when she was upset. Still, there was a bit of a difference between losing a million, and losing your ability to  _ move _ .

He stood up. Fuck, what was he doing? His body was moving without him wanting to. Years of dealing with Courtney’s tantrums made it almost an instinct at this point.

He moved across the table and sat beside Scott. Scott blinked at him, but didn’t move. It looked like he hadn't even noticed.

Duncan reached out and touched his arm. Then he hugged him.

What the hell was he doing?! This wasn’t Courtney. This was a farm boy. A farm by who smelled way too much like garbage for Duncan to have put his face this close. A farm boy who-his mind suddenly reminded him-stole Courtney. He shushed that thought. That really wasn’t relevant at the moment. 

Then Scott put his arm around Duncan. If they ever spoke again after this, Duncan would have to remind his to bath; his eyes were starting to water.

Fuck, was this too long for a ‘guy hug’? Duncan hadn’t really been in this situation before. Had Scott? Fuuuck.

Then Scott pulled away. So Duncan did too. Scott wiped his eyes with his shirt, and cleared his throat. Awkwardness hung in the air. Fuck.

“Thanks, Duncan. Sorry I-I kind of made this visit about me-I swear I didn’t-”

“Shut up Scott.” What was he saying? He shuffled further away, and crossed his arms.

“I needed this. I just-it’s nice to have someone know what it’s like. And i’m sorry that happened to you.”

Scott’s eyes were still wet, and tears were starting to trickle down his face. Duncan didn’t move, just kept staring at him. Scott stared back.

He could see what Courtney saw in him; he was attractive. In a rugged sort of way. Like a cowboy. And he had nice hair; though it didn't look like he washed it too often. His face was dirty; all of him was. But he had nice eyes. Grey, and blue. Like the sea after the storm.

What the hell was he thinking? The sea after the storm? God, he shouldn’t have let Beth talk him into watching The Princess Bride again. But still, they were very nice eyes.

Scott seemed to have realised what he was doing, and stood up suddenly.

“Sorry-I-don’t-have-any-money-for-food.” He blurted, and almost tripped over himself to walk away. Duncan looked over and saw an officer standing not too far away, watching Scott leave. The officer turned back and saw Duncan. He shrugged in a ‘what can you do’ kind of way, and Duncan smiled. 

Dammit. Now what was he going to do?

Scott was moments away from the exit, when he paused. He looked up at the clock, and then turned. He walked towards to café instead. He got in line.

Duncan felt his stomach twist as he stared into Scott’s back. Goddammit, was he following Courtney’s lead or some shit?

Duncan knew he liked guys. ‘Bisexual’ was the word. He’d had a couple of boyfriends in between trips to juvie, and even a few warrants for indecent exposure with them. He also knew he had the worst track record with relationships since starting Total Drama. He didn’t even know if Scott liked guys too. Or even liked Duncan. He was a redneck; not the most LGBT-friendly background. And Duncan was in prison now, the hell was he doing?!

Scott was coming back. He had two sandwiches, a pack of doughnuts and what looked like a chocolate bar tucked under his arms. Duncan stood up and helped him carry them to the table. They sat down.

“Sorry, I, um, found a couple of dollars in my pocket.”

Scott was lying. Duncan could tell.

“What was the money for Scott?”

“My bus journey home.”

Ah. Fuck. That was very nice of him, if a little stupid. 

Scott seemed to catch onto hat he was thinking.

“It’s okay, I can call my sister to pick me up. She’s a lesbian.”

Duncan sent him a confused look.

“I-I mean she owns a pickup truck. Sorry, I, um, don’t know what I was thinking there.”

“Your sisters gay?”

“Yes.”

“Are you?”

“I don’t know.”

Scott was shuffling closer now. He was staring at Duncan’s mouth. God, this felt like those stupid rom coms Lindsey made him watch.

Still. He wasn’t complaining.

“Do you like guys?”

“I like you.”

Wow. Honest. Duncan was surprised. Still, after the whole Courtney-Gwen shit, he was done with lying. For good. It was nice to have someone be blatantly honest.

Scott was still staring at his mouth. But it didn’t look like he was going to move. So Duncan leaned forward, placed a hand on his chin, and-

“Times up.”

They both turned and stared daggers into the officer beside them. He gave them an apologetic grin, and pointed to the exit. Visitors were slowly filing out. Scott cleared his throat and slowly stood up. 

“I’m, err. All the contestants are having a reunion. Well, it’s more like a load of parents are suing Chris for damages or whatever, but we’re all invited to come and watch. I thought I'd go and see Alejandro. We both have experience with being shoved into tiny metal boxes.”

Scott laughed, but it sounded fake. Duncan wanted to hold his hand, and he didn’t know why.

“I’ll, um,” Scott pulled up the strap of his vest from where it had fallen down, 

“I’ll tell some of the others to come and visit you. Okay?”

He paused. The officer cleared his throat. Duncan sent him a death glare, and he walked further away.

“I’ll… come visit you.” Scott finished, before nodding awkwardly and walking away. 

Duncan watched him go. He suddenly found a reason to try and get back into the real world again. 

He looked down at the table. The food had all gone to waste. And Scott’s money. Duncan made another mental note to repay him for that. And there was still that thing on the table.

He picked it up. It was a wooden carving of Chris McClean, sitting in that stupid giant toilet.

And Duncan laughed.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Beth, Lindsey and Duncan would make just the best trio of friends, don't @ me. and i'm going to make a series out of this.


End file.
